


Restart My Heart (And My Life With It)

by killerxcanaries



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anorexia, Binge Drinking, Burnout - Freeform, Comfort/Angst, Cutting, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drunk Dialing, Drunken Confessions, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist, Overworking, References to Depression, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sleep Deprivation, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Zoey Clarke Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29103654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerxcanaries/pseuds/killerxcanaries
Summary: Ever since Mitch died, Zoey's had a very hard time dealing with the grief and pain.Or, six times Zoey uses unhealthy coping mechanisms to try to make the pain go away.
Relationships: Maggie Clarke & Zoey Clarke, Tobin Batra & Zoey Clarke, Zoey Clarke & Joan, Zoey Clarke & Leif Donnelly, Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke & Mo, Zoey Clarke & Simon Haynes
Kudos: 8





	1. Simon

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! as you could probably tell by the tags, this is yet another angst fic, but this one goes into more serious topics that i understand could be triggering for many people. i made each chapter into a stand-alone chapter, so if you want to read the fic but are uncomfortable with reading about/do not want to read about a specific topic, you can skip the chapter and just read the others. i am going to put a trigger warning for every tiny thing i can think of just to warn everyone in advance of what is to be expected in the upcoming parts. most of the chapters are not very deep and graphic/specific, but i still want to be on the safer side with everyone anyway. i tagged and will put warnings for everything that i can possibly think of, but if there is anything else that anyone thinks i should add to either list, please let me know :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey tries to work through her pain to get her mind off of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//overworking, burnout, sleep deprivation, suicidal thoughts, depression

**Simon**

Ever since Mitch had died, Simon knew that it wasn't going to be easy for Zoey to make it through every single day without thinking about her father's passing, especially right in the beginning. He also knew that Joan had told Zoey to take as much time off from work as she possibly needed, and that her job would still be left there for the girl whenever she was to return, which is why Simon was very surprised that morning.

He was at the cereal bar, pouring some into his bowl and thinking about how the first time he and Zoey had a _real_ conversation with each other was about which type of breakfast food they were going to put into their bowls, which was also when Simon first found out about Mitch's condition. Simon heard the elevator ding as it came to a halt on the fourth floor, opening up to reveal a sleepless-looking Zoey walking towards her desk.

His eyes went wide, and when he looked towards Joan's office he noticed that the older woman's eyes were wide as well- along with the rest of the members of the fourth floor, it seemed.

"Hey, Zoey. Welcome back," Tobin said with a nervous smile.

"Tobin, I was here two days ago, and we saw each other at my house yesterday, too," Zoey said with an eyebrow raised, and Tobin just nodded softly before going back to his work.

Mitch's funeral was _yesterday_ , and while the grief process was different for everyone, it didn't take a genius to figure out that throwing yourself back into your work the day after a parent's funeral was _not_ the healthiest way to go about everything.

Everyone at the office seemed to be stepping on eggshells all day as they watched Zoey out of the corner of their eyes, waiting for the time that the girl might suddenly crumble and one of them needed to be there to help her through whatever she was going through.

"Hey, Zoey," Simon said slowly as he approached Zoey's desk later on, and he watched as she put on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hi, Simon."

"I'm headed to the meditation room, wanna come with?"

Zoey shot Simon a confused look before letting out a sigh.

"Fine, but I really need to get back to this, so I can't spend too long in there."

"Gotcha," Simon said with a smile, waiting until Zoey turned off her computer and walked around the desk before beginning to walk alongside her towards the room.

The two sat down on the floor next to one another, shutting their eyes after crossing their legs. Simon heard Zoey let out a soft sigh, opening up his eyes and looking over towards her to see an expression on her face that he couldn't quite read, but it looked like a mixture between pain, remorse, and worry.

"Hey, Zo?" Simon asked softly, watching as Zoey nodded her head gently with a hum. "Um...how are you doing?"

Zoey opened her eyes, raising an eyebrow as she looked over at Simon.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, with everything going on lately, I just wanted to check on you and see how you were holding up."

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" Zoey asked, and Simon could tell that she was trying to shield her emotions behind sarcasm.

"I thought Joan had told you to take some time off. You know the team would've kept on top of your work, right?"

"Yeah, I do. But if I was able to come into work, then why would I make someone else do the work for me?"

"Are you sure that coming back to work was the best idea right now, though? I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look really tired, Zoey. Everyone understands that you're going through some stuff right now, and no one expects you to be here if you're not a hundred percent ready to be back."

"I'm already dying on the inside, might as well die on the outside too, right?"

Zoey shut her eyes while Simon's went wider in comparison. He had been right- she was throwing herself into her work as a distraction to try to forget about the fact that her father died. Simon knew how that whole chain of events worked; back when Simon's father had died himself, Simon used to throw himself into any and every activity he could even think of in order to dull the pain and pretend like everything was perfectly fine. But then that continued on and on until he finally had a mental breakdown, and he knew that hardworking-and-determined Zoey Clarke would end up doing the same thing to herself.

"Zoey," Simon said softly, and Zoey slowly opened her eyes back up as she looked over at Simon.

"Talk to me. What's going on up there in that head of yours right now?"

Zoey let out a sigh, a small smile forming on her face as she let out a fake laugh.

"I'm fine, Simon."

"Zoey, you and I both know that 'fine' and 'good' aren't the same words and that they have very different meanings."

Simon reached forward and slipped a hand into Zoey's, forcing her eyes to linger on their intertwined hands for a few moments before she looked away and over onto a random spot on the floor.

"I would never judge you, Zoey. I've been there, in that state when the only reasonable option seemed to be going back to work. But I tried that, and I eventually just made everything so much worse for myself once the emotions and the stress piled themselves way too high and then came falling back onto me all at once. I know you might not want to even think about your feelings right now, but it's perfectly normal to feel all of the things I can imagine you're feeling right now. And it's a hell of a lot healthier to get them out into the open a little at a time than all at once months from now, when it's taken such a beating to you that you'll never be the same again."

Zoey forced herself to nod slowly, letting out a sigh.

"You're right, Simon," Zoey said softly after a few moments had passed.

"Right about what?"

"That I...that I thought coming back to SPRQ Point the day after my father's funeral was going to help me get myself together and get over his death?" Zoey asked, tears filling her eyes. "My dad's _actually_ gone, and the only thing that I really want to do right now is get to hug him one last time. But I'll never be able to do that again, and that's all I've been able to think about recently."

Zoey let the tears fall from her eyes and was immediately wrapped up in Simon's arms as he ran a hand up and down the sobbing girl's back slowly.

"I-I miss him, a-and he'll never get to watch me grow up anymore. W-We'll never make any more family memories together again. I...I thought that by forcing my mind to focus on other things, I-I could get over this quicker."

"Hey," Simon said softly, shaking his head. "You will most likely never completely 'get over' the death of someone close to you, especially a parent. But that also doesn't mean that it won't eventually get easier.

"One day, you'll get to the point where you can eat your Dad's favorite foods again and smile as you picture him eating it, or visit the same places he used to love going to and reminisce on all of the nice times you spent there together. For the first chunk of time it's not going to be easy, I won't lie to you there. And even after a lot of time goes by and you think you're finally ready to take a step, there might be a lot of setbacks. You might not even be able to get through five minutes of one of your dad's favorite tv shows without being brought to tears, or you might go ten more years of your life before you start to cry about things like that again. But all of those things? That's all completely okay and a hundred percent normal, Zoey."

Zoey's sobs eventually died down to where the tears still ran down her face and she was still sniffling from time to time. Simon pulled back from the hug to meet Zoey's bloodshot eyes and puffy face, smiling sadly.

"Why don't I go talk to Joan quickly and get your bag for you, and we can both grab some cheesequakes before watching some movies back at my place, or something?" Simon asked, and the corners of Zoey's mouth turned upwards very slightly.

"Thanks, Simon," she whispered.

Zoey decided to take some more time off from work after that.


	2. Maggie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey shuts herself in her room and stops eating, because the thoughts of taking time and food away from everyone else in her family makes her feel guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//anorexia, sleep deprivation, suicidal thoughts, depression

**Maggie**

After Simon dropped Zoey off at her family's house that evening, Zoey hadn't left to go back to her apartment at all. She hadn't left to go to the store, or to attempt to go back to work, or to even just stand outside of the family's house. To be completely honest, Zoey hadn't even left her own room besides when she needed to use to the bathroom, but that was it.

After a whole day passed without Zoey coming down the stairs, Maggie started to grow worried. She tried sending texts to Zoey in case she wanted some space, even trying to call her, but received no answers to any of her attempts.

Two more days passed and Zoey hadn't had anything to eat or drink, unless she picked on something in the middle of the night without anyone else in the house knowing. Maggie filled a glass up with water and put some food onto a plate for Zoey, bringing them both upstairs and knocking on her daughter's door before slowly opening it and shutting the door behind her.

Maggie took in the way that the lights were off, the blinds were completely shut, and Zoey was curled up in a ball on one side of her bed.

"Hey, Zoey," Maggie said softly, bringing the food over to set down on the bedside table.

Maggie knelt down in front of Zoey's curled up figure, who was looking down at the bed to avoid having to make eye contact with her mother.

"I brought you some food and something to drink, honey. I know you might not want either right now, but you have to at least have a little bit so that you don't make yourself sick, alright? Do you want me to sit with you for a little while?"

Zoey didn't say anything, and after a few moments passed without a sound, Maggie let out a sigh.

"Okay. I'll give you some more space, but if you need me just let me know and I'll come right back."

Maggie frowned after she stopped at the doorway and turned back to take in the sight of her daughter, not knowing what she could do to help but knowing that she had to figure out something.

Later that night, Maggie went back into Zoey's room to take her (hopefully empty) plate and glass, finding that both were still exactly as full as they had been when Maggie had first brought them into Zoey's room.

The cycle repeated like that for about two weeks straight. Maggie would bring in breakfast, would check on Zoey around lunchtime, and would switch out a breakfast plate for a dinner plate since that food would have been very cold if Zoey ever decided she did want something to eat. Maggie would go in late at night to collect the still-full glass and plate, a frown etched into her expression every time she left the room.

On day one of week three, Maggie knew that the whole situation was only seeming to tear herself up and it wasn't seeming to phase Zoey. She had lost a ton of weight, which was only completely-visible in her face at the moment since Zoey kept herself wrapped up in her blankets all the time now. Her skin was looking more on the gray side than its normal, healthier color. Zoey's eyes were blank and glossed-over every time Maggie caught a glimpse of them. Zoey's pain was breaking Maggie's heart, but Zoey's pain wasn't seeming to break Zoey's heart. For some reason, it seemed as if Zoey's emotions _in general_ were nonexistent as of late.

Maggie prepared a big breakfast and brought her up a glass of water once again, going into Zoey's room and setting down the food. Maggie moved to open up every set of blinds in the room, bringing a blinding brightness into the space for the first time in weeks, making Zoey squirm and bury herself further into her blankets.

Maggie sat down next to Zoey, putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Zoey, let's talk," she said softly, and when Maggie didn't get a response or even so much as a glance directed towards her, she sighed.

"I know what you're trying to do, Zoey," Maggie started softly. "You think that by staying in here and hibernating that things are going to change. You think that you can push away your thoughts and your feelings by secluding yourself from the world in this pitch-black room of yours, and that if you pretend that life isn't going on, that it really isn't going on.

"But you know what, Zoey? Life is still going on. And while you might not _want_ it to be going on, or you might feel as if you're stuck in the same endless cycle that doesn't seem to want to stop itself, it will, honey. And I know it might be really hard to even picture that day right now, but I promise you that it'll come eventually.

"Until that day decides to come, you're not alone. I'm here, and David and Emily are here, and all of your friends can be here at any time if you want them to be. You don't have to go through any of this alone, and we don't want to see you suffering by yourself."

Maggie waited for Zoey to respond, rubbing her hand up and down Zoey's arm in a comforting manner. Zoey slowly opened up her mouth, shutting her eyes.

"I just waste resources and cause problems, it would be better for everyone else if I wasn't here anymore," Zoey mumbled.

Maggie stared down at her daughter, stunned at what had just came out of her mouth.

"Honey, what do you mean?" Maggie asked nervously.

"I'm only here right now because I'm too much of a coward to kill myself, and it would make me even more selfish if I died right now and you all lost someone else."

Tears began to flow down Zoey's face for the first time in weeks, and Zoey turned and buried her head into her pillow to muffle the heavy sobs that began to fall from her lips from keeping everything inside for so long. Maggie stood up and walked around to lay down next to Zoey on the bed, wrapping her arms gently around the shaking girl from behind. Zoey finally decided to turn around, burying her face in the crook of her mom's neck as Maggie hugged Zoey tighter.

"Out of everything that you just said, only one of those things was true, and that was that we would miss you and wouldn't want to lose you, Zoey. But feeling grief like this? That doesn't make you selfish at all, and we are all going through the exact same emotions you are dealing with, even if we aren't exactly feeling them or showing them in the same way that you are. You do not cause problems or waste resources, and we really need you in our lives still, Zoey. I know it might feel like everything is horrible right now, but I promise you, once we can all get through this rough patch together, things will eventually start to make themselves better again. And nothing is going to go back to being exactly how it was before we lost him, but things are going to form their own new version of normal that we'll fall into, and we'll fall into it together."

Maggie was able to make Zoey eat a little bit of her dinner that night, slowly working her way in until Maggie got Zoey to leave her room for a few minutes two days later and back to at least picking at more than one meal on day four.


	3. Tobin and Leif

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey finds a bottle of Mitch's pills that helped him sleep and helped decrease his anxiety, and starts to rely on them to get her through each day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//drug use, drug abuse, sleep deprivation, suicidal thoughts, depression

**3\. Tobin and Leif**

After Zoey returned to work again, she was immediately bombarded with every single thing in her life changing once again. Sure, she was dating Max, which made her happier. But that was about the only stable thing in her life at that moment, and even the sudden best-friends-to-lovers switch had overwhelmed her even more. 

Whenever something went wrong, Zoey had a few people she would go to. First, she would go to Max, because he was her best friend and they were always there for each other. Max was now her boyfriend and no longer just a best friend, so scratch that idea.

Next, she'd go to Mo. With something as minor as this, Mo would look at Zoey as if she grew three more heads.

Then, she'd go to her parents. Well, her dad is no longer alive, and her mom is stressed out of her mind, so they're out of the equation too.

There was Simon, but they only ever seemed to have heart-to-hearts in regards to their mutual sharing of having lost their fathers, and this didn't exactly have to do with Mitch.

Zoey would have talked to Joan in a heartbeat, actually, because Joan was like a second mother to Zoey and always knew exactly what to say. Except this time, Joan had fled San Francisco completely in favor of moving to Singapore's SPRQPoint location, leaving Zoey in charge of the fourth floor and having that be a big part of the problem in the first place.

Zoey had never been more thankful to leave work more than she had been that day, grabbing her things and rushing out of the office faster than she recalled ever moving in her entire life. She made it to her family's house a lot sooner than expected and began to help her mother in preparing dinner.

After a little while Zoey had excused herself to the bathroom, letting out a sigh as she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror whilst washing her hands. Zoey was a mess, she knew that, but there was just nothing that she seemed to do that could take away the ever-increasing pain of the world crumbling directly on top of her at all times.

Zoey put a hand up against the mirror with a frown, jumping back slightly as she had forgotten about the fact that the mirror popped open upon pressing against it. She opened the mirror a little more to see the still-full medicine cabinet full of orange bottles, all labeled "Mitch Clarke".

Zoey had gone through health class in school, and she did have common sense. She knew that if a medication was not an over-the-counter one and was a prescription that was specifically prescribed to another person, you definitely should not even attempt to take one pill.

But Zoey remembered what each of Mitch's pills were for, and she remembered that there was one that was to help you sleep better and to help decrease your anxiety. And Zoey chose to push all of those red flags out of her mind as she found the still-half-full bottle of pills in the very back, letting out a shaky breath as she quickly deposited the container into her pocket and then transferred it into her bag after making sure the coast was clear in the entryway.

Later that night, after getting safely into her bed, Zoey popped one of the pills into her mouth. She wasn't sure whether it was her exhaustion catching up on her or if the pills _actually_ worked that quickly, but that was the first night that Zoey actually got a decent night of sleep in months. No, she didn't sleep through the entire night, but she had gotten a few more hours of sleep than she had been lately and was very appreciative of that.

Zoey remembered her father taking the pill several times a day, but she didn't want to (a) run out of the prescription that she couldn't refill or (b) risk having some serious reaction to the pills that would make her have to stop taking them altogether.

So Zoey stuck with popping one pill around lunchtime every single day for a week. They seemed to help in both the sleeping aspect and in the happiness aspect, as Zoey felt as if her entire soul had been lifted from her body and no longer felt as dejected and anxious every single day as she previously had been.

The next week, Zoey started taking one pill at the beginning of the day and another pill in the afternoon. Taking them twice each day seemed to help everything even more than they had before, and Zoey felt hooked on the adrenaline that she seemed to get every day since that one moment that she first started taking the pills.

Zoey pulled out the pill container and unscrewed the cover as Tobin caught a glimpse of the orange-colored case and nudged Leif's arm.

"Hey, dude?" he whispered, and Leif stopped typing to look at Tobin with a hum.

Tobin nodded his head in Zoey's direction.

"She's been taking whatever those things are twice every day, and her entire mood's changed since I first saw her taking them."

Leif raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly.

"Okay? Maybe they're for depression or something and they're making her feel better."

" _Or_ maybe the boss has been a lot more relaxed and not like herself than an antidepressant would make a person, especially so quickly. And maybe we need to make sure she's okay."

Leif let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"We can't go snooping around in her office, alright? If someone catches us we'll get fired, especially since it's over a personal matter that we'd be violating her privacy for."

"We go in and take a picture of the bottle just so we know what it is we should be looking into whenever Zoey leaves her office next, then wait until Zoey comes back and ask her something. It'll seem more plausible to everyone else in here than us going in there and then coming back out immediately with nothing after the boss coincidentally isn't in there."

Leif looked back over at the office to see Zoey standing the container up on her desk as she got up and walked in the direction of the bathrooms, sighing as he picked up his laptop and the two made their way into Zoey's office about thirty seconds after she was completely out of view.

Tobin pulled his phone out and quickly went to snap a picture of the pill container when he froze in place, an uneasy feeling washing over him.

"Dude, what's wrong?" Leif asked, and Tobin snapped the picture before going to stand over by Leif.

"She's taking Mitch's medication, dude," Tobin whispered, plastering a fake smile back onto his face as Zoey came back into view, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the two standing in her office.

"Uh...hi, you two. What's going on?" Zoey asked as she sat down in her chair.

"We were just wondering if there was any way you could look over a part of this code for us if you had a free second," Leif said.

"We both looked it over and wanted a third opinion, and while we could have bothered someone else with it, we both know how great of a coder you are, and figured we'd at least try to ask first," Tobin said, and Zoey smiled softly.

"Thanks, guys. And yeah, absolutely."

After Zoey had checked that the code looked perfect she let them go, and both Tobin and Leif frantically began typing at their computers as they began to try to figure out what the medication was for and what it could do to a person's body that didn't have what Mitch had.

After finding out just how horrible the side effects were, seeing death and major medical issues as just a few of them, Tobin and Leif knew that the girl couldn't keep taking these pills anymore. Sure, they might both get fired for confronting her, but at least she would be safe and alive. 

The next day came around and they both watched as Zoey took a pill in the morning and another in the afternoon. Leif shook his head after watching Zoey pop the second one into her mouth, looking over at Tobin.

"I'm gonna stay late tonight and confront her once everyone else leaves."

"I will too. We can't just keep watching her slowly killing herself and not do anything about it," Tobin said sadly.

A few hours passed by, and eventually there were only three people left at the office building. Leif and Tobin looked at each other and took in nervous deep breaths before slowly heading towards Zoey's office, knocking gently on the glass door.

Tobin walked in first, slowly sitting down in a chair as Leif sank down beside him in the other.

"Hey, guys. You know you didn't have to stay this late, right? Everyone else already left," Zoey said, looking back down to type a few things on her computer before looking back up at the two. 

"What can I do for you?"

"Stop it, Zoey. _Please_ ," Leif pleaded softly, and Zoey furrowed her eyebrows as she looked back and forth between Leif and Tobin in confusion.

"Um...what exactly am I supposed to be stopping?" she asked, and Tobin's frown deepened.

"We've seen you taking those pills lately, and you need to stop, Zoey."

Zoey raised an eyebrow, letting out a soft laugh.

"Not that it's any of your business, but they're pain meds for cramps."

"Last time we checked, Zoey, most guys don't get periods," Leif said.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"We know the pills are your father's, and we know they're from his PSP, Zoey," Tobin said. "And before you start trying to defend yourself again, we can literally see Mitch's name on that bottle right now," Tobin said.

"I put some of my pills into the container so that I didn't lose them. I figured that me taking pills from a pill container looked less strange than me taking pills from out of a plastic bag, or anything like that."

"Take one out right now, then," Leif said, pulling up a picture on his computer.

"Guys, I'm fine, and I really don't need a whole intervention over something that you're both blowing out of proportion," Zoey said as she poured a pill out of the bottle and Leif flipped around his screen to show her the picture on it, Zoey's face blanching instantly at the knowledge that there really was no way of getting out of this.

"This is a picture of the exact medication that the label on that pill bottle says it is. Unless PSP medication has been medically decided to help with cramps overnight, we've both done extensive research and know that they weren't as of yesterday."

"Guys, I don't really understand-"

"You could seriously hurt yourself by taking those, Zo. Your organs will completely shut down, and you'll have conditions that aren't treatable. You could _die_ , Zoey," Tobin said, shaking his head.

"Then my dad and I will both have untreatable health conditions that'll kill us in the end," Zoey mumbled with a shrug, making Tobin and Leif freeze.

"Zoey," Leif said quietly, and she sighed, shaking her head.

"I don't need your pity, alright? I'm perfectly fine, and I don't need to see whatever doctor or medical professional you both probably want me to see now."

When Zoey looked over at Tobin Leif reached over and grabbed the pill bottle from Zoey's desk, Zoey's hand immediately reaching forward to grab it back but being too late.

"Give them back, Leif," Zoey said, but the former shook his head.

"You and your family just lost someone, Zoey. We can't all go through losing you as well."

Zoey shook her head, letting a fake smile form on her face.

"Guys, I'm okay, seriously. Those were the ones my dad took to help him sleep at night, and they've been helping me sleep, too."

"They've been attacking your organs and bringing you closer and closer to your own death, Zoey. Taking PSP medications without actually having PSP is not going to end well, and the more you take, the more damage they're doing to your body."

The withdrawal symptoms were harder to deal with than she would have expected, and Zoey was practically begging Tobin and Leif for the pills back in the few days right after stopping. But eventually, Zoey seemed to be back onto her previous routine of never sleeping and being depressed all the time, and she figured the pills were out of her system by that point.


	4. Mo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey goes to Max and Mo's karaoke night and finds that their alcoholic beverages actually succeeded in making her thoughts disappear, so she decides to make that a nightly affair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//alcohol, alcohol abuse, binge drinking, depression

**4\. Mo**

Mo and Max were opening their new business, and after their impromptu karaoke night opening party, Zoey realized that Mo's strong drinks _actually_ succeeded in getting Zoey's mind off of things. After a horrible day at work she drank a few of those and had a giddy smile on her face before the end of the night, and Zoey missed feeling all happy and bubbly inside like she used to before her dad passed.

She wanted to feel like that all the time again.

Zoey showed up at the place the next day, had an awkward conversation with Max and a conversation with Mo _about_ her awkward conversation with Max, and then ordered a drink. And then another drink. And then another drink. And the drinks just kept coming until Zoey could not even stand up on her own without the drunken haze and dizziness making her fall over, so she didn't even try getting up.

Zoey was quickly downing yet another drink when Max noticed her actions at the bar, a frown forming on his face as he watched her obviously-drunk behavior. He met Mo's eyes across the room and motioned towards Zoey, and Mo nodded as Max made his way over to the drunk redhead.

"Max! Hey," Zoey dragged out, eyes shut and a huge smile on her face as she slung an arm over Max's shoulder and took another sip from the drink in her opposite hand.

"Hey, Zo. Why don't we get you out of here, huh?" he asked slowly and gently, making Zoey pout.

"But I don't wanna go," she said with a pout, making Max sigh.

"You've had a lot to drink tonight and you're going to be very hungover tomorrow, Zoey. You'll thank me later."

"Fine," she mumbled, and Max attempted to help her stand up before Zoey almost fell to the ground instantly.

"Come here," he mumbled, picking her up bridal style and carrying the girl out of the building and to the passenger seat of his car.

That's how the next two weeks went. Every single night Zoey would show up. Zoey would have an awkward conversation with Max. Zoey would have a conversation with Mo about the conversation with Max. Zoey would drink until she forgot about her problems. Zoey would be carried to Max's car and brought back to her apartment.

Max and Mo knew that it wasn't good for Zoey to keep partaking in the same repeat of events like she had been doing, but they didn't exactly know what to do to stop Zoey from following the daily routine she had set for herself. Until one day, when Mo saw Zoey walking in and had enough of watching the redhead destroy her own life.

"Hey, Mo," Zoey said as she sat down on a barstool. "I need whatever the strongest thing you've got is."

Mo handed Zoey a drink, watching Zoey make a face after taking a sip.

"That's not alcohol," Zoey deadpanned, and Mo smiled sarcastically.

"No, it's not. It's Sprite."

"And...why couldn't you have given me _actual_ alcohol?"

"Because we're done, Zoey. _I'm_ done. I'm not going to watch you come in here every day, drink away your problems, and get taken home by either Max or I. You're hurting us, Zoey, but you're hurting yourself a lot more. We really don't want to have to watch you hurt yourself day after day and not do anything about it."

Zoey shook her head in disbelief, letting out a soft laugh.

"I'm doing absolutely nothing wrong here, Mo. I've been a good friend and was _trying_ to support my friends' business together by coming here every day, but apparently that's not allowed anymore."

"You're binge-drinking, Zoey. Whether you actually believe that you're only drinking in support of us or not, you're really hurting your body by doing this every day."

Zoey ran a hand through her hair, letting out a sigh.

"Fine, I'll go. But you should have just let me be, Mo. I've been doing perfectly fine."

"What, and let you drink your life away? I don't think so. For at least the foreseeable future, if you come in here you will not be served alcohol of any kind."

"I hope you realize how ridiculous you're being right now," Zoey said, and Mo shrugged.

"Call me any names you want to, but I am not going to watch you drive yourself closer and closer to death on my watch, Zoey Clarke."

Zoey avoided Max, Mo, and their business for some time.


	5. Joan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of feeling so alone, an intoxicated Zoey decides to call Joan and confess about everything that has been going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//alcohol, alcohol abuse, drunk dialing, sleep deprivation, suicidal thoughts, depression, mention of actions in previous chapters briefly

**5\. Joan**

Zoey had agreed to not down Mo's drinks for the moment, but she never once agreed to cut alcohol out of her life completely.

So, Zoey began buying her own strong alcohol to have in her apartment. She started off with drinking beer or wine every night, then started moving to the stronger liquors. The thrill of not having to face her sadness during the evening and not having to think about anything as she slept kept Zoey going, and she never wanted the feeling to go away.

So, after getting home from yet another rough day, Zoey locked her apartment door, threw on pajamas, and pulled out a bottle of tequila. She contemplated upon whether or not to pour the liquid into a glass before just deciding to ditch the idea entirely, opting to sip directly from the bottle itself.

Zoey quickly began to down the liquid that burned her throat, willing the tears that formed in her eyes to disappear. She didn't want to cry that night, and was hoping that the alcohol could make her forget about everything. After teetering on too-drunk-to-stand-up, Zoey sank down onto the couch, wondering why all of her emotions were still there that night instead of disappearing like they always usually did once she had switched over from sober Zoey to drunk Zoey.

Zoey pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, pressing on one and listening to the sound of ringing coming from her phone. It was nine o'clock on a Friday night in San Francisco, which meant that it would be one o'clock in the afternoon on Saturday in Singapore, and Zoey was hoping that the recipient of her call wouldn't be too busy to pick it up.

"Zoey?"

"Hey, Joan," Zoey got out, a breathy laugh erupting from her lips. "What's up, girl?"

Joan took in the way that Zoey's words were slurred and her heavy breathing sounded labored, almost like she was trying very hard not to breakdown.

"Hi, Zoey. How has everything been lately?"

Upon hearing those words Zoey immediately broke down, tears flowing down her face like a waterfall as she let out a choked sob.

"I-I can't keep doing this, Joan. I-It's...it's too hard."

Joan frowned, her heart breaking as she heard the girl who had grown to be the daughter she never had drunkenly sobbing to her over a phone call.

"Zoey, what happened? What's wrong?"

"Life is wrong. E-Everything is wrong. Nothing's been going right lately, a-and I just..."

Zoey began to sob harder, shaking her head back and forth before trying to drink more of the tequila in the hope that her thoughts would just magically decide to switch themselves off at any moment.

"I-I tried pushing myself to work harder, b-but Simon made me stop that. A-And then I tried pushing everyone away and staying in my room all day? B-But my mom forced me t-to eat and drink and get out of bed again, s-so that didn't work. A-And I tried taking my dad's sleeping pills b-because they made me sleep again a-and made my thoughts go away? B-But Tobin and Leif took those from me. S-So then I tried drinking at Mo and Max's, b-but Mo won't let me back there now b-because I was drinking too much, o-or something? A-And now I'm drinking tequila at m-my apartment, b-but it's not doing anything. M-My thoughts won't go away, and I just need them all to stop," Zoey cried.

Joan's eyes went wide as her mouth fell open, not even being able to imagine what state Zoey must be in if she's tried all of those things already. Her thoughts were interrupted by Zoey's slurred words again.

"E-Everyone...everyone that I allow myself to get close to...t-they all just leave me. M-My dad died, and he's just...he's just gone now. A-And then you leave too, Joan. I needed you, a-and you just left me. And I-I know your work is important, a-and I'm really happy you're happy, b-but I wish I could give you a hug right now. You always g-gave really good hugs."

Zoey started sobbing harder than before, gulping down more of the tequila and relishing in the fact that it burned her throat as it went down.

"Hey, Zoey?" Joan asked gently, receiving no response from Zoey but hoping the redhead would at least half-listen through her drunken state. "You are so, _so_ strong, Zoey Clarke. And I know this year has not been easy on you at all, and you don't deserve any of this in your life, especially not all at once like this has been.

"But I know you, Zoey. I knew you both as a friend and as a colleague, and you are the toughest person I have ever met. I know things might seem really hard to deal with right now, and it might feel like nothing is ever going to get better. But I promise you, Zoey, things will get better in the end. Even if it takes a really long time for that to happen, I promise that it will happen one day. But for right now, you just have to keep pushing and pushing, and one day the universe will reward you by letting you be happy again."

Joan waited for Zoey's response, but found that Zoey was no longer sobbing, soft snores traveling through the phone. Joan managed a very small, tight lipped smile to form on her face at the fact that at least the girl was going to sleep a little bit that night, but hating that she had been going through all that she has been at once.

Joan hung up on Zoey after about ten more minutes and didn't even give herself an option to talk herself out of what she was about to do before clicking onto one of the contacts in her phone, waiting for it to stop ringing and for another voice to be waiting on the other side.

Two days later, Zoey made her way into work, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying in her car in the parking lot just ten minutes prior to entering the building. She attempted to compose herself enough to seem perfectly fine, but that was about the best that she could do without feeling the desire to break down again.

Zoey ran her hands over her face and took a few big gulps of water from her water bottle, trying to push through the work in front of her as a distraction. Zoey only looked up upon hearing someone clearing their throat from within her office- _how did she miss the sound of them coming into it in the first place?_ \- and jumped as she realized she wasn't alone.

Zoey's eyes immediately began to fill up with tears again as she shook her head.

"Y-You're not...this isn't real."

Joan nodded softly.

"This is real, Zoey, and I'm real too. I'm back for good now, and I'm not going anywhere."

Zoey was immediately on her feet and wrapped up in Joan's tight embrace before she even realized she had moved, and Joan began to rub Zoey's back up and down slowly as Zoey sobbed against her chest.

"I talked to some people and they transferred me back here. I took over Danny Michael Davis' job since he's not working right now, and if he is able to work again at SPRQPoint in the future, he will be transferred to the Singapore building. I'm not going anywhere, Zoey."


	6. Max

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have been getting worse to the point where Zoey decides to shove all of her feelings down, relying on cutting to make herself feel something again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//self-harm, cutting, sleep deprivation, suicidal thoughts, denial of feelings, depression

**6\. Max**

Zoey stopped everything. She stopped trying to bury her feelings with alcohol, and with pills, and with curling up in a ball in her bed all day long without eating. But none of those worked in changing anything in the first place, and Zoey was still in pain.

Zoey even tried some of the "healthy coping mechanisms" that Mo had given her a whole presentation on, but scrapbooking, karaoke, and going for a walk every day, to name a few, did absolutely nothing as well.

Just about the only other thing that Zoey could think of doing to cope with everything was by fighting the pain with more pain.

Zoey stood over her kitchen sink, hands pressed against the cool countertop as she let out a shaky breath. She caught a glimpse of the sharp-but-smooth knife she was prepared to use with her dinner in a few minutes, her hand moving to grab it as she held it up over her skin.

Zoey slowly brought the knife over her wrist, hissing slightly as it first broke through her skin and drew blood. She watched as droplet after droplet came through the surface, beginning to mix together and slide down her arm. Zoey brought the knife back to make three more cuts on her wrist, watching as drop after drop of blood hit the bottom of the sink.

About five minutes had passed before Zoey decided to clean her arm up, grabbing a paper towel and gently patting her skin before putting Band-Aids on top of the cuts. Her skin was sore as she pulled her shirt sleeve back down over them, but the knowledge that cutting herself had given her this power that momentarily made her forget about her internal pain and focus on her external pain made her feel relieved.

The next morning, Zoey popped the metallic piece out of a pencil sharpener that she wasn't using, going into her bathroom and scraping the small piece across the top of her right leg, making several cuts that were smaller than the ones from the night before. These ones bled slower, but by the time Zoey finally put down the blade, the top of her leg was covered in her blood as it started to trail downwards towards her knee.

Zoey went to work that day and relished in the fact that every single time she moved her body, the cuts on her wrist rubbed up against her shirt and the cuts on her leg rubbed up against her pants, a new thrill rushing through her at the slight pain that caused.

Day after day Zoey continued to cut herself, finding that her legs were the safest spots to cut in order to avoid the possibility of anyone finding them, and they conveniently bled a lot if you pressed down hard enough. She went through box after box of Band-Aids, but Zoey couldn't care less. Band-Aids were less expensive than alcohol anyway, and the pain that she could bring to herself was priceless.

Zoey knew deep down that she shouldn't be feeling the way that she was, and knew that she should talk to someone. As someone that had so many emotions always pent up inside of her, both from her own self and from the ones expressed by other people through song, Zoey knew that it definitely wasn't the greatest option in the world to bury them all down and pretend like she was fine. But she also didn't exactly know who to talk to or how to talk to them about something like this.

So she didn't.

Zoey slowly walked into Max and Mo's place, hands in her jacket pockets. She looked to her left and saw Max sitting at the desk he had placed there, and he immediately met her eyes with worry in his. Zoey walked over towards Max, smiling softly.

"Zoey..." Max trailed off, but Zoey shook her head quickly.

"I'm not here to drink, Max, I'm here because I wanted to see my friend. I brought a bottle of water with me if I get thirsty, and you can hover over me all night if you really want to, but I'm done with alcohol for at least the near future."

Max let out a reluctant sigh, nodding.

"Can I uh...would I be really distracting if I sat over here by you somewhere?" Zoey asked, and Max smiled softly, getting up and giving her his chair as he went to grab another one.

"Of course not, Zo. You're welcome to come visit us here anytime."

Zoey watched Max as he worked for a little while, a soft smile on her face. It was about an hour later and Zoey reached down into her bag to grab her water bottle, her shirt sleeve getting stuck on one corner of the Band-Aid covering her wrist just as Max decided to look over at her. His breath caught in his throat as his mind automatically led him to assume the worst, but Zoey was doing better. Zoey _had to be_ doing better...right?

"Zoey..." Max began softly, and her expression grew confused as she met his eyes. "What happened to your wrist?"

Zoey looked down and noticed her bunched-up sleeve, quickly pulling it back down over the Band-Aid.

"Oh, that. It's no big deal, and it's almost healed by now," Zoey said with a smile, turning to look at the groups of people spread out around the room.

"What happened to your wrist?" he tried again gently, and Zoey shook her head.

"I'm alright, Max. You don't have to go all defensive-best-friend on me."

"You're still not answering my question, though, and you're worrying me."

Zoey stared at Max's face for a few moments before allowing the corners of her mouth to tilt upwards.

"I was watching the cat of one of the ladies in my apartment building, and the cat scratched me when I tried to pick him up."

Max watched her for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, nodding.

"Alright. Make sure that you're cleaning it well though, alright? If that gets infected it'll hurt a lot worse."

Zoey nodded softly, busying herself with her phone to avoid Max's stare.

A few weeks later, Zoey and Max had picked up their weekly movie nights again. Zoey went into the bathroom, immediately pulling out her blade and dragging it across her wrist. She knew that Max deserved a lot better than her, and yet Zoey couldn't find it in herself to come clean and let him go completely. She knew how disappointed in her Max would be, and Zoey couldn't stand to see that look on his face, especially not at that moment.

Zoey heard Max's knocks on her door, so she quickly wiped her arms, not having enough time to cover up the cuts as she hoped that they would just stop bleeding on their own. Zoey pulled open her apartment door and smiled at Max, wrapping him in a hug.

"Hey, Max."

"Hey, Zo."

The two were about twenty minutes into their movie when Max looked down at the couch to grab a few pieces of popcorn, his eyes going wide upon noticing the blood stains that had seeped into Zoey's light-colored shirt.

"Zoey," Max said slowly, pausing them movie, and Zoey looked over at him.

"Why'd you stop the movie?"

"Zoey, show me your arms."

Zoey followed his gaze down to her wrists and her eyes went wide immediately, her face blanching in color.

"Zoey, please," Max whispered out, but Zoey forced a fake smile onto her face.

"Those stupid cats got me again earlier, and I probably just accidentally bumped into the cuts and got them to start bleeding again. I'll go clean them up quickly."

Zoey stood up from the couch and was about to head towards the bathroom when Max slipped his hand in hers, causing Zoey to stop and look back at him.

"Hey, come here," he said softly, pulling Zoey to sit back down on the couch next to him again.

"Max, I'm fine," she said with a soft laugh, but Max still frowned.

"Can I see them?" he asked, and Zoey opened her mouth slightly to answer but didn't exactly know what to say.

Zoey slowly extended her hands towards Max after realizing there was no longer a possible escape plan, who flipped them over so that the tops of her wrists were in his hands. He watched her expression to make sure Zoey wasn't going to suddenly not be okay with this, in which case he would have let her hands go immediately. Zoey kept her eyes glued onto her wrists as a anxious feeling bubbled up in her stomach, watching as Max slowly pulled her shirt up to her elbows on both arms.

Despite how hard she tried to convince herself that things were going to be okay, Zoey knew they weren't going to be. Her eyes welled with tears the instant that her scars were exposed, partially for the reason that she never really looked at her scars since they were only ever exposed when she was in a haze and carving new lines into her body, and partially because she knew Max had figured everything out and wouldn't believe her lies any longer.

Zoey shut her eyes tightly, and Max finally allowed himself to look down at Zoey's arms in his hands. Max had suspected that Zoey wasn't watching someone's cat, but was hoping deep down that the first bandage was because of some sort of accident. By the looks of how many scars littered both of Zoey's arms- some of them small and looking like scratches, some of them longer and deeper- Max knew that there was no way this could be from an accident of any kind.

"Zoey," Max said gently, rubbing his thumbs across Zoey's palms as she slowly opened her eyes and allowed hers to meet Max's. "I'm so sorry you have been going through this alone."

Tears immediately began to stream down Zoey's face and she shook her head, letting out a soft sob as Max wrapped his arms around the girl's frail body.

"It's okay, Zoey. It might not seem like it right now, but things will all be okay in the end."

Max led Zoey to her bathroom, Zoey sitting up on the countertop as Max began to clean her cuts as carefully as he could before covering them up. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to each wrist before kissing Zoey's forehead, noticing that Zoey had been avoiding his gaze ever since they had gotten up from the couch earlier.

"Hey," Max said softly, tilting Zoey's chin upwards so her eyes met his. "Talk to me, Zo. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Zoey shrugged, pulling her arms back to wrap around herself.

"I'm sorry, Max. Nobody was supposed to find out, a-and-"

"Are there more?"

Zoey met Max's eyes again to see sincerity in them, surprising her. She expected to see disgust and anger, but Max didn't seem to be disgusted _or_ angry at her. And that kind of scared Zoey even more, if she was being completely honest.

Zoey nodded slowly.

"M-My legs...if I have time, they're easier to cover up."

Max frowned softly as he nodded himself.

"Have you cleaned those at all?" he asked after a moment, and Zoey looked away.

"I just cover them all up once I do it," she mumbled, and Max slipped a hand into Zoey's, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"If you want me to, I can clean those for you also. But if you're not comfortable with showing me those, you don't have to show me them."

Zoey met Max's eyes, searching them for that tiny glint that would be in his eyes if he was joking. She was waiting for the punchline, or was waiting for whatever he had planned in which _she_ would be the punchline. For some reason, it still hadn't arrived.

"O-Okay," Zoey mumbled softly, pulling her pants off as slowly as she possibly could.

Max's pointer finger gently traced one of the longer cuts that reached down towards Zoey's knee, making Zoey tear up again.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm not judging you or anything, alright? I'm just helping you so that you don't hurt yourself more if these get infected," Max said gently, cupping Zoey's face and wiping away a tear with his thumb.

Zoey slowly nodded, and Max began to clean the scars on her legs. He wanted so badly to beg Zoey to stop, or to ask why she didn't trust her friends enough to tell someone, or to force her to get rid of whatever she used to cut herself with. But Max knew that none of that would do either of them any good, and as much as it pained him to even think about, he knew there would probably be a lot more cuts before Zoey ever _fully_ stopped.

After Max had cleaned the ones on her legs and patched her all up, he looked up at her to see her fiddling with her shirt sleeve, a look of disappointment and embarrassment on her face.

"Hey," Max whispered, causing Zoey to look up at him. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Zoey shrugged, looking away.

"This...this wasn't how anyone was supposed to find out."

Max slipped a hand into Zoey's, nodding softly.

"How _did_ you want someone to find out?"

Zoey paused for a moment before answering.

"I was supposed to tell them, and they were supposed to get mad at me and upset at me, and then their anger would make me feel guilty, and then I'd be forced to stop cutting when they got rid of it."

Max shrugged softly.

"Something tells me that you would only feel worse about yourself if I were to yell and flip out on you right now. Plus, this isn't my call to make because your body is not my property. I know that you're in a lot of pain, and it hasn't been easy watching you go through all of this on your own. I don't like seeing you in pain, and knowing that you're willingly adding onto the pain that you're already dealing with makes me feel horrible, Zo. But I would never boss you around like a child and force you to stop something that looks like it's become a habit now, no matter how much I want to."

A few tears fell down Zoey's face and Max reached up to wipe them away with his thumb, cupping her face.

"I'm not going to force you to stop unless it gets to the point where the cuts are deep enough that you need stitches, or I have to take you to the hospital, or anything along those lines. But I want to be here for you, Zoey. I want to help you in any way that you'll let me, and I'm hoping it never even gets to that point and we can stop before there, alright?"

Zoey nodded slowly, shutting her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and Max shook his head, wrapping her in a hug and rubbing her back up and down slowly.

"I'm not mad at you, Zoey. I know you're going through a lot, and I get it. It's okay," Max said quietly, kissing the top of her head.

Max walked with Zoey back to her bedroom, the movie long-forgotten at that point. Max tucked Zoey in and was about to walk away when Zoey's hand came out to grab his wrist.

"C-Can you stay?" she whispered, and Max nodded.

"Of course, Zo."

Zoey's grip grew tighter on Max's wrist and Max smiled softly.

"I'm just going to go turn the tv off and put everything away, but I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Zoey nodded softly and Max kissed her forehead before walking out of the room. Max let out a sigh once he was away from her door, running a hand over his face. Since he had first met Zoey, her health and safety were always much more important to him than his own. It could have been because of their close friendship or it could have been because of the way Max instantly fell in love with Zoey, but either way, Max knew that he always wanted to be able to take care of her no matter what.

To know that not only was Zoey suffering after losing her dad, but that she was suffering so much to want to hurt herself even more than she was already hurting? Yeah, that hurt Max more than he ever thought he could ever have been hurt before.

Max turned off the movie and got rid of their snacks and drinks, pouring a glass of water to take into the room with him in case she wanted one that night. He took a deep breath before walking back into Zoey's room, putting the glass on the bedside table next to her. Zoey pulled down the covers on the other side of the bed, looking down.

"Are you sure, Zo? I can just sleep on the couch so that I'm still here with you."

"I don't want to be alone right now," she whispered, barely audible, and Max nodded.

"Of course."

He sat down next to Zoey and had barely enough time to lay down before Zoey's arm was wrapped around Max's torso and her body was curled up against his. Max reached his arm around to wrap around her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm here, Zo. I'm not going anywhere."

Zoey slept through the entire night for the first time since her dad had died, but Max stayed awake all night. He listened to the soft sounds of Zoey's breathing as he gently combed his fingers through the bottom of her hair, wanting to be awake in case she woke up and needed him.

The next morning, Zoey woke up to the feeling of Max's hand running through her hair. She allowed the corners of her lips to turn upwards slightly, cuddling closer to his body. She missed getting to be all close to him since they've been apart, and it felt comforting to be back in his arms again, even if it wasn't for the reason she wanted it to be.

Max smiled softly as he noticed Zoey was awake, kissing the top of her head.

"Morning, Zo," he whispered, and she slowly opened her eyes to see his looking down into hers.

"Morning, Max."

It was a rough few months in the beginning, but eventually Zoey's relapses started spreading themselves further and further apart. Zoey began opening herself back up to people again, starting to allow the people that were there for her to actually be there for her when she needed them to be.


End file.
